


To Reach the Shining Tops of Day

by twoam



Category: Blackadder
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-War, Sex in a Car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoam/pseuds/twoam
Summary: It's a glorious summer day and the war is over. The dining car might be a disappointment for George, but Melchett isn't.
Relationships: Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett/George Colthurst St. Barleigh
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29
Collections: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020





	To Reach the Shining Tops of Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ficwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficwriter/gifts).



It wasn't a good start to his weekend. The dining car was all out of eggs. 

"Really, no eggs? None at all?" George sighed. He'd been so looking forward to some poached eggs. He'd left early this morning to get back to the countryside, so early that he didn't have time for breakfast. The thought of poached eggs on the train had kept him going all the way to Victoria. The disappointment was crushing.

"I am sorry, sir. Perhaps some bacon instead?" 

"Oh, yes, I suppose that's as good. Yes, that'll do nicely." It was not just as good but he'd be a rotter if he said it. Conceding to the inevitability of not getting what he wanted, George swayed his way down the aisle and found an empty table to sit at. Shifting along the booth seat, he moved to sit by the window. Something to gaze out at while he waited for his breakfast. Yes, the site of London vanishing on the way back to the old family pile was enough to raise any man's spirits. Even one without the eggs he sorely wanted. 

London was fun, all his surviving friends were there in the clubs, in the City, or doing all sorts of things in his Maj's service that frankly he didn't understand and fell clean out of his empty head when they did try to explain. Lots of opportunities for the larks and japes that had been sorely lacking for the last few years. Yes, London was terribly fun, but it was good to give it the old heave-ho too. Go back home to the countryside, where everything was a lot less grimy and depressing, where the summer had pleasant breezes and such instead of a sort of sticky, dusty haze of London for the past few weeks. 

Really, with all those nice pleasant thoughts of the countryside, the lack of eggs was bearable. He'd have them tomorrow instead. The thought buoyed his spirits as the houses starting to trail off alongside the line as they chugged out of London. Soon it'd be fields, trees, birds fluttering around and cows mooing. Just as it should be. 

"George!" The call of his name, so loud it felt like it was almost directly into his ear, made him jump. He turned with a vague, pleading smile, hoping it wasn't one of his old school masters. He wasn't sure if he could cope with reminiscing about school this early in the morning. They were always disappointed that the Latin hadn't stuck. Or the French. Or whatever else they'd attempted to teach him. 

It wasn't an old school master, and the man shouting his name was in fact a good foot away from him. He should have guessed from that alone who it was, but he hadn't. It felt like it'd been forever since he'd last seen him. 

"General Melchett!" It slipped out. Force of habit from being surprised, even after being discharged. 

"Now then George, no need for such formality! I'm not your commanding officer any more after all." Melchett didn't ask if he could join him. Instead he shoved himself along the other side of the table and shuffling his way to sit opposite him, with the confidence he wasn't going to say no. Which George wasn't. "What a surprise, I thought, seeing you here! How long has it been now?"

"Oh, it must have been...mm. Let's see, it was..." It was hard to remember with Melchett sitting opposite him, warmly smiling at him. It made his memory feel like it was nothing but holes. It was after the war, obviously, after he was discharged and wasn't working for Melchett as his...actually, he'd never exactly worked out what his job was supposed to be, after he came back from going over the top and found he'd been moved. Melchett said he was very happy with his work. Even when he forgot the forms, or the previous minutes, or the top secret maps. "Was it...that dinner for your sister?" That sounded right. Golly, was that only two weeks ago? It felt longer.

"That's the ticket! Turned out to be a complete waste of time. The man got put off by how she ate her soup!"

"Ah. Terrible shame, that." Poor Miss Melchett. It wasn't easy for her, and she was a rather nice girl. It just always seemed to go wrong for her. George smiled, remembered how they were seated next to each other. It'd been a jolly time, even with the soup trouble. Melchett had put his hand on his knee during the fish course and it'd stayed there for the rest of the dinner. After the ladies retired, Melchett had invited him to come back to his flat afterwards. Catch up on old times, he said. The other men around them had heartily approved. Very good to keep those bonds forged in the war alive!

Yes, they certainly had caught up on old times afterwards. The thought made his cheeks feel warm and he looked away from Melchett back out of the window to stop any further blushes. A hand slid up his leg under the table, caressed his knee as he stared out of the window. 

"Where are you off to today?"

"Oh, just going home to see the family. They, um, didn't have any eggs today."

"Hmm." That deep, rumbling voice made his cheeks stay warm. It made him think of that time when Melchett took his shoulders, called him his chipmunk in that voice and kissed him for the first time. Also of the second time he'd done it, when George wasn't wearing a dress. "Tell you what. Why don't you come and visit me first? You can stay tonight and I'll run you back over in the car tomorrow. I'll make sure there's eggs for breakfast." George thought about it. Thought about the very vague suggestion there might be guests for dinner tonight. Thought about the leather seats in Melchett's car. Thought about the hand rubbing circles on his knee, full of promise of what'd be waiting for him if he said yes. 

It wasn't much of a competition. The Melchetts were good family friends. Nothing wrong with going to see them, of going with Melchett. Yes, he'd send a telegram home to let them know he'd be coming tomorrow instead, and it'll all be perfectly straight.

"Yes, why not? All sounds like a jolly good idea." Melchett smiled at him, warm but with a hint of something more to it as well that made George swallow. He knew what it meant. Even a bird-brain like himself understood. It made him move a hand under the table to give the hand resting on his knee a quick squeeze.

* * *

"Here we are!" George took a deep breath and felt glad to be alive as the car stopped. Well, he always felt glad to be alive, it was much more fun than being dead, but after experiencing Melchett's driving he felt even more grateful for it. It was very tricky these days, not having a driver, but maybe, if he slowed down on the corners instead of speeding up, it might be better? 

He opened his eyes, expected to see the house that was the product of centuries of Melchetts and their enduring taste for very grand yet completely mismatching extensions. Instead there was a field. A field with ripening crops of some sort, all golden and wavy, but definitely not the house. George blinked. 

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, because I know I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, but isn't this a field?" Melchett beamed at him, as if that was the correct answer. Oh. Good. He wasn't being completely stupid then.

"That's right! Every time I pass it, I think 'I must show George this view'. So here we are!" It was rather a nice field. It was even nicer to think Melchett had been thinking of him while they were apart. It made his stomach feel like it was filled with butterflies. 

"Yes. They're very nice...crops." 

"Now, you are being rather silly. I didn't bring you here to look at the wheat!" George wondered for a moment what, in fact, he was supposed to be looking at, before he lifted his eyes above the wheat. The view that spread out beyond the field, a rare high point amongst very flat land, made him inhale. 

It was quite the view. He could see for miles from here, through the haze of heat lingering on the air. The dip and roll of the fields, the tiny houses and villages dotted in-between like toys. The great massed clusters of woods. The sky was so big and clear. It made George feel rather small. Nice small. Not like fighting in a war small. It was all the sort of things poets talked about in great detail, being terribly clever with their words. 

For him, it was simple. It was lovely. It was being back. He turned to Melchett, a big smile spreading on his face. It really was lovely, being back here in England, and being with Melchett. Even with his terrifying driving.

"I say, it was topping of you to bring me here, Melchett." A hand crept along his thigh, paused on the delicate skin on the thigh. His breath caught, the blood went to his cheeks. 

"Really, George. I think it's about time you started calling me Anthony." The move made his cheeks feel even hotter, but not as hot as Anthony leaning in to kiss him. Smoothly sliding across the leather to reach him, pulling him close. If there wasn't a firm arm around his back, holding him close, George might have swooned. Anthony was very good at this, knew how to make his knees tremble with a brush of his tongue, the warmth and press of his lips against his.

When Anthony pulled his mouth away, George slid up even closer. Not easy, with how small the front of the car was compared to their heights. His knees were squashed against the dashboard. Worth it to be pressed up against Anthony, one leg slung over his warm thigh as Anthony's fingers trailed along it, brushed his knuckles against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. It made him wonder why they didn't do this more often. They did it all the time in France, at practically every opportunity. It'd been harder to get Anthony to keep his hands off him, if he'd wanted him to, which George hadn't. 

"I was thinking..."

"Dangerous hobby, that. Leads to all sorts of nasty things if you're not careful." 

"Oh, rather. But this was more of a nice thing." George paused, tried not to get distracted by the way Anthony was kissing down his neck. It was very hard to think when Anthony did that, it had a tendency to make other thoughts that weren't about how much he wanted to be touched fly out of his head. Oh, there it was! "More of a why don't we do this more often thing?" Anthony's mouth paused, drew back from his neck. It made George wonder for a moment if he was being very stupid, until Anthony beamed at him under that glorious, bushy moustache. 

"Jolly good idea! Let's start by having you stay for the whole weekend. I'm sure your family will miss you, but I'd miss you even more." The hand slid its way down, reached where all the blood that wasn't rushing to his face was starting to gather and gave it a squeeze. 

"Righto!" It was more of a squeak than the deep and manly sounding reply he'd hoped for. Fortunately it didn't put Anthony off at all as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his quickly hardening cock out of them. His fingers wrapped around him, started to jerk him off with fast strokes. It was the kind of relentless pace he was used to from Anthony, that made him squirm on the leather of the passenger seat. The lips against his neck again, kissing their way along it as his cock swelled in his hand.

"Later I'm going to give you a good rogering. Bet you'll enjoy that, eh?" Despite how it felt like all his thoughts were as focused on what Anthony was doing with his cock, the thought of Anthony pushing him over something and giving him a good fucking, just like old times, made him twitch against Anthony's hand. Made Anthony laugh in that deep, rather sexy way of his. George felt as besotted as he felt randy. 

"Oh, yes." Hard to get the words out when Anthony was playing with his slit, teasing it. It made him press up even closer to him, banging his knee on the dashboard as he did. George didn't even notice the pain in his knee as Anthony pulled him in for a deeper kiss. His cock ached in Anthony's hand, all his thoughts even more muddled, impossible to think about anything else. He was so good with his hands. Marvellous how he knew exactly how to tease a fellow, gently caressing his balls through his trousers with his other hand as George clung onto him like one of those sea creatures to a rock. He felt like he might die if he stopped. It made him moan against Anthony's mouth as he sped up his strokes, made him push up against Anthony's hands, demanding more. 

"That's it, darling." His cock throbbed in Anthony's hands, all his thoughts were caught up in Anthony as he fucked his hand. The thought of Anthony's cock buried in his arse, warm, snug and feeling awfully good. His arms clung onto him tight, holding him tight in the rather cramped confines of the car, rocking into those fearsome strokes until he came. His mind went gloriously, blissfully blank as he did. Nothing but the high and Anthony's body pressed up against his, his thighs pressed up against Anthony's as he came all over Anthony's hand. 

It was all rather wonderful, especially once Anthony wiped his hand clean and kissed him again as he was coming back down to earth. He looked proud of him. Randy, and proud of him. It was a rather marvellous combination, all things considered. 

"Better?"

"Oh, much better." George thought about the weekend ahead of him, and it put a dreamy smile on his face. They'd drive to the house, do all the polite things that one did as a guest in someone's else house. Things like nodding in understanding when they went on about the companionship that grew between men during war as Anthony casually slung his arm around his shoulder, before Anthony would take him up to his bedroom and fuck him senseless. It was terribly exciting. 

"Oh, my darling Chipmunk. I am looking forward to this weekend." 

So was George. And the rest of his life, if it was all going to be like this, with Anthony.


End file.
